Dispatches from the Political Warzone

Being the educated readers that you are (a recent survey found that the average education level of RoSA readers was a dual MD/PhD -- so if you haven't educated yourself to that level, my sarcastic "thanks" for dragging down the average) you probably know something about the political struggles taking place in our nation's capital. It turns out that our sleepy little neighborhood in suburban northern Virginia is in the midst of a similar upheaval. Political machinations are afoot at The Compound. See exhibit A, a two-sided letter slipped under my door sometime in the middle of the night:

 

Basically, what I can discern from this is that a new, power-hungry "Coalition" of owners is trying to seize power from the incumbent Board Members of the Compound, and the incumbents (the people who left this note under my door) are trying to rally support to their cause with a mostly pointless letter with fear-mongering phrases like "checkmate," "smug with power," and "hidden agendas." (To their credit, the math lesson of 459 minus 40 equaling 419 was educational and enlightening. Thank you, Letter Writers, for the crash course in advanced subtraction)

Yes, my friends, the Compound -- which I half-jokingly view as the homeowners' association equivalent of something between a debtors' prison and Fascist Italy -- is apparently in the midst of a legitimate coup d'état and possible revolution: think Napolean in 1799, Iran in 1953/1979, or Chile in 1973. Although, admittedly, you wouldn't know it by looking outside. Just a bunch of nice-looking old folks out walking and enjoying the spring weather.

This felt like a Taliban night letter had been delivered to my door while I was sleeping. I admit that the letter contains no explicitly-stated threats, but were there implied ones if I don't do what the letter-writers want me to? Are my kneecaps going to get broken? Am I going to get beat up and thrown down our garbage chute (which is totally fine with the Compund rules so long as it doesn't happen between 10PM and 7AM) if I don't comply?

I enjoy watching the chess game of political maneuvering take place between countries, but having it so close to home is kind of exhilarating. I can only hope that this feud culminates into some sort of Machiavellian bloodbath and Mrs. RoSA and I get to spectate as these idiots tear each other apart a la the battle at the OK Corral. Viva la Revolucion, everyone (maybe)??

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Reasons to Visit Utah

I suppose one could speculate that the real reasons we went were to visit a new nephew, see family, see the awesome mountains, and eat some, in my opinion, overrated Cafe Rio (<-- Mrs. RoSA will kill me if she sees this) -- and those were our stated objectives -- but that person would be wrong. I was there to eat the best chips in the world:

...and to drink the best root beer in the world:

...and then to procure and bring them home in ridiculous enough quantities that security at the airport wants to look in your bags and confirm that, yes, all those large bags they saw in your carry-ons are actually full of chips. I can't blame them, really, as three large, "party size" bags of any kind of chips are anomalous enough to raise suspicion.

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Denny's Drunken Party

Well, this picture came in from White Josh earlier this week:

Yes, some marketing nerd at Denny's is currently patting himself on the back in self-congratulation for his play on "bacchanalia." Unfortunately for him -- and by extension, Denny's -- I'm afraid that the wit of his wordplay will probably be lost on the intended audience, as I don't think the vast majority of Denny's customers are familiar enough with Roman history / mythology to know what bacchanalia were. Unfortunately for me, I do know what bacchanalia are, and linking Denny's and its customers with the drunken, debauchery-filled Roman orgies called "bacchanalia" is perhaps the last thing I ever want to imagine. Ever.

This is more the image I associate with Denny's:



And these are the follow-up images of the menu that Josh sent. Behold, the overuse of bacon:

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